ext_292756 (
kudaran314.livejournal.com) wrote in
lucetilogs2008-02-26 03:20 pm
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Entry tags:
[unfinished, closed]
Who: Aya & Aya
What: Domestic things.
When: A bit after the love event.
Where: Starting from their kitchen.
Summary: Reconnection time?
Rating: G
Cooking wasn't the same here. Aya had tried to make Hinachirashi just because the third of March was close by. He wasn't exactly sure what the date was, but considering from the temperature and length of day, it seemed about the right time. Their mother had always remembered the Girl's day, and even if he had thought it then as needless fuss, now it seemed appropriate, and nostalgic. But he couldn't have found all the ingredients, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he remembered all of them anyhow, or knew how to prepare them. But in the end, he had cooked something that probably would be edible and he hoped it would be enough for her.
Plates set on the table, kitchen cleaned from all the earlier clutter when he had been repotting some of the seedlings, Aya knocked on his sister's door and waited for her to answer.
What: Domestic things.
When: A bit after the love event.
Where: Starting from their kitchen.
Summary: Reconnection time?
Rating: G
Cooking wasn't the same here. Aya had tried to make Hinachirashi just because the third of March was close by. He wasn't exactly sure what the date was, but considering from the temperature and length of day, it seemed about the right time. Their mother had always remembered the Girl's day, and even if he had thought it then as needless fuss, now it seemed appropriate, and nostalgic. But he couldn't have found all the ingredients, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he remembered all of them anyhow, or knew how to prepare them. But in the end, he had cooked something that probably would be edible and he hoped it would be enough for her.
Plates set on the table, kitchen cleaned from all the earlier clutter when he had been repotting some of the seedlings, Aya knocked on his sister's door and waited for her to answer.
no subject
no subject
He wrinkles his nose, the rise dropping down, and he frowns.